


Herbivores

by MelchiorGabor



Series: Mell’s Post-Squip Timeline [3]
Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz, Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Angst, Fighting, M/M, More tags to be added, Potheads, Recreational Drug Use, Weed, Winter, Yelling, im calling it, it gets pretty wild, thats their ship name
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-29
Updated: 2018-01-30
Packaged: 2019-03-10 22:39:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13511229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelchiorGabor/pseuds/MelchiorGabor
Summary: Michael’s drug dealer is some shady transfer student from New York who seems to carry an air of resentment wherever he goes. Very few people know about his drug business, but those who do keep it on the down-low, including Michael.Still, many things manage to happen with the sketchy boy who rarely speaks inside of school.





	1. Druggies Fight

Weed. Pot. Grass. Hemp. No matter what you wanted to call it, it was what Michael so desired.

  
Michael’s first weed purchase occurred in his junior year of high school. He was overcharged, due in part to the fact that he was an unsuspecting teenager who didn’t know that at the time. After only a bit of research, he came to the realization that his drug dealer was no good, and from there, he stopped consuming it.

  
Senior year was different, however. It was December, meaning that he’d survived four months of school already. The first semester was almost coming to a close, and snow blanketed the ground as coats and hair were being tousled by frigid winds. Today was no different; the skies were a light gray, and it was still an early morning. Michael had started to get to school a bit earlier every time he needed more pot, since his dealer was a transfer that began selling to students on the premises of the school. Sure, it was risky, but many people relied on the random boy behind the school to deal them drugs. That’s just how things went since the beginning of this particular year.

  
The boy trudged through the thick snow in his red hoodie, black jeans, and white sneakers. Granted, he was freezing, but he was also too lazy to put on anything warmer. Thus, he shivered as he continued on his brief commute to the back of the school.  
His dealer was attentive enough to notice when Michael showed up, which was mainly because of the crunch of the snow. The long-haired teen looked up from his phone and over at Michael with a raised brow. “Welcome back.

  
“Thanks,” Michael murmured in return, fishing a wad of cash from his hoodie pocket. He then waddled over to the thin teen and handed it out to him. “A few grams should be fine, please.”

  
“Right.” The boy took the cash from Michael’s hand and pocketed it. He then opened the messenger bag slung across his body and withdrew a small bag, handing it to his “customer” with half-lidded, boring eyes. “You’re probably the most polite client I’ve had. I’ll give you that.”

  
“Thanks, Murphy,” said Michael with a small chuckle. He shoved the bag into his backpack and zipped it back up, adjusting the straps on his shoulders. “It’s pretty early, and school probably won’t start until maybe an hour. If you don’t plan on meeting with anyone else this morning, I can always keep you company.”

  
“You make it sound gay, like we’re already friends,” Connor mumbled, closing his bag and moving his hazel eyes up to the hooded boy. “But whatever. Stay only if you want to.”

  
“That’s the spirit.” Michael smiled lightly and moved against the brick wall next to Connor, leaning against it and looking at the lanky boy. “The semester’s almost done. Have you made any new friends?”

  
“Seeing as I’m immersed in a highly illegal industry that only few here are aware of, I don’t think I can risk friends. It’s easy to keep tabs on my clients, though,” the other teen said in return. “They come and go, but I’d have been doing this much earlier if I were aware of how much money I’d make.”

  
“Interesting. Do you have any tabs on me?”

  
“Well, besides you being roped into a bathroom to—“

  
“And that’s where I’m cutting you off. Forget it,” Michael drawled, his eyes flickering back and forth across the snowy ground. “You don’t even know what happened in that bathroom, so you don’t really have much of a right to say anything about it.”

  
Michael and Connor became acquainted around the second half of the first semester that year, so perhaps around October. How Michael became aware of the latter‘s drug-related ties was through a friend, and from there, he sought the boy out. Ever since, Michael became a regular client, and the two talked every now and then. Their relationship was on a first-name basis, but their conversations never really got past how the weather was. Gossip was completely off the table, and perhaps Connor found the thought of thought-provoking conversations repulsive, but regardless, that’s just how they interacted. Oddly enough, however, Michael was one of his closest friends—mainly because he otherwise had very few.

  
“You asked,” Connor said in his usual monotonous murmur. Rarely did he ever let any emotion show, which Michael had to get used to. There was a long pause where the two thought about what to say, until Connor finally spoke again. “I saw you hanging out with my stupid fucking sister. If you weren’t a regular client of mine, I’d think you were mentally ill.”

  
“Zoe’s nice. I don’t understand why you hate her,” Michael huffed, his eyebrows creasing with possible offense. “And we were just talking about what we got on the calculus exam, anyway. We aren’t all buddy-buddy; she’s just smart.”

  
“I didn’t ask for an explanation or justification as to why you decided to talk to her. Let me remind you that I don’t care.”

  
“Right. Sorry.”

  
There was another long, tense pause. Michael did resent Connor’s more hostile demeanor, but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle. Still, part of him wondered why Connor was constantly so spiteful. Drug dealers still always had the capability of being nice people, but it appeared that Connor was making the conscious decision not to be that kind of person. Maybe Michael just needed to break the boy’s bitter exterior, but how he’d do so was unknown. At least having a conversation with him was a start.

  
Michael had to break the silence. “You don’t have much of a reason to hate her.”

  
“And you don’t have much of a reason to be involved with my fucking personal life,” Connor retorted with hostility, his eyes narrowed at Michael. “Lay off my shit or get the hell away from me.”

  
This type of anger wasn’t common with Connor. The thin teen was generally very passive-aggressive and sarcastic when he was upset; more than usual, at least. He only started throwing around curse words when he was truly off-put or perturbed, and the fact that he was doing so now only showed that he hated touchy subjects. This had happened before—Michael once pressured the boy about what he did outside of school, whereupon Connor began shouting cuss words rather unknown to the hooded boy—so he luckily knew how to handle the situation, lest it present itself again.

  
“Connor—“

  
Before Michael could say anything, Connor spoke up again. “Are you really so fucking insecure that you need to pry at my business just to fill the silence? I’m your drug dealer, not your best friend. I’m not going to openly talk about shit just because you asked nicely.”

  
“I just want— I’m trying to be your friend!” Michael stammered. “How else am I supposed to strike up a conversation with some quiet druggie who lurks behind the school? Should I ask you how you feel about the weather again?”

  
“No, you just shouldn’t talk to me at all.” Connor’s fit of anger vanished, and was instead replaced with pure, bitter resentment. Basically how he always was.

  
“Great. I won’t.” Michael turned on his heel and stormed off.

  
Their brief argument meant many things, mainly because Connor never got that angry. The first question was whether or not Michael would be able to buy from Connor again, but above that, the boy wondered if he’d ever be able to even _speak_ to Connor. Michael had other friends, of course, but that didn’t mean he wanted to lose any, no matter how small the friendship.

  
Still, the the fact that he just walked away basically solidified the fact that they were no longer friends. He still had an entire school day to get through, and—

  
 _Shit_.

  
He shared two of his classes with Connor. In one of them, he even sat next to the teen. This wasn’t good. He could always skip class, but then he’d be seen as irresponsible or rebellious, which would look horrible on his part. There was the possibility that he could feign an illness, however...

  
That settled it. Michael had his heart set on skipping an entire day of school just because of a minor fallout between he and his drug dealer. Wasting no more time, he quickly slipped away from the school premises, praying that he was unseen.

  
The boy quickly glanced behind himself to see if anybody was watching him leave. Almost immediately, he locked eyes with some boy who looked to be traipsing to the [back](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13510908) of the school. Dark eyes met Michael’s brown ones, and panic rippled through the hooded boy as he quickly scurried away. _That_ teen couldn’t know why Michael was leaving. Rumors would be spread about him if he was found skipping, especially because he was at the top one percent of his class. Was that Michael’s main concern, however? No.

  
Michael was overthinking it, obviously, but it didn’t take long for him to scamper back to his house. It was incredibly convenient that he lived close by, and the moment he entered the house and slammed the door shut behind him, he was panting heavily. It took up a fair amount of energy to run a couple of blocks in the brisk winter air, and something led him to believe that he might actually get sick from pushing himself that far.

  
Now he had to consider what he might do in terms of what just happened. An apology was definitely in order, but doing so would be the hardest part. Opting not to face Connor out of the fear that he’d be yelled at again, he pulled out his phone and decided to text the drug dealer instead.

  
“ _I was being irrational and nosy. I’m sorry. You have a reason to hate me_.”

  
Pressing the “send” button with a light sigh, Michael thought it probable that he was being dramatic. That was likely the case, but since he couldn’t unsend his message, he simply mulled over what Connor might respond with, if he even _did_ respond. Despite swearing that he was a man of his word, Michael really didn’t want to stop talking to Connor. The lanky teen’s entire character was intriguing and oddly unique, seeing as nobody else in Middleborough was simultaneously reserved and interesting to talk to. Although “Connor” and “easy to talk to” were two conflicting notions, they still somehow worked together.

  
Connor responded to Michael’s text about an hour later. At that time, Michael was lying on the couch while watching Chopped in only a pair of Pokémon sweatpants. The heater in his house thankfully kept him warm.

  
“ _believe it or not, i dont really care. youre a dumbass for leaving school, though_.” That is what Connor had replied with. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for Michael.

  
“ _I can always come back and use an excuse. Are you free to talk_?” Michael responded almost immediately. Call it desperation, since he really wanted to be Connor’s friend again, but he didn’t really care.

  
Connor responded a bit quicker this time. “ _sure_.”

  
And with that, Michael hopped off of the couch and quickly got dressed.


	2. Amended

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael confronts Connor, and they get on better terms.

Michael was ready within a couple of minutes, given that his previous clothes were simply scattered on the floor for him to pick up later. The boy dashed out of the door without thinking twice about taking his backpack, and although he could have driven in order to get there quicker, he didn’t want to waste gas. As a result, the sight of him treading through the thick snow to get back to school was noticeable from a mile away, especially because of how heavily his red jacket clashed with the white frost.

  
About halfway on his commute back to the school, he managed to trip over a thick tree root, and fell face-first into the snow beneath him. He was forever grateful for the white pillow that broke his fall, but as he got back up to continue sprinting past the lines of houses, tears pricked his eyes from the sheer cold, and thick clumps of snow clung to his hair and jacket. Regardless, he had to tough through those shitty conditions just to repair his small, broken friendship with his drug dealer. In retrospect, the concept seemed laughable, but to Michael, it was so much more than just that.

  
Arriving in front of the school within a few more long, tiring minutes, Michael slumped over for a moment to catch his breath. Fog expelled from his discolored lips, which were both a result from the frigid air outside. Face-planting into the snow probably didn’t help. Either way, he regained his composure and trotted to the back of the school, where he saw Connor leaning upright against the wall. The thin boy looked at Michael, and he looked very unamused on the surface. Hopefully that was just a façade.

  
“Hey,” Michael said breathily, looking the other boy up and down. “I’m—“

  
“Sorry. Yeah, you already said so,” Connor interjected, sighing and standing upright. He kept his eyes locked on Michael as he did so. “Look, I’m only saying this because you’re one of the few people I don’t completely hate, but I was probably being irrational earlier.”

  
Michael silently agreed in his mind, but didn’t say anything on the matter. He simply sighed and shrugged, playing it off like he didn’t really mind. “It isn’t your fault. I shouldn’t have grilled you like that. I’ll admit that what I did was pretty shitty, so I’m sorry.”

  
“I know it isn’t my fault.”

  
“Right.”

  
There was another painful silence, although the quiet seemed to hurt even more than any other time it occurred between the two boys. It was probably because Michal had returned with the sole purpose of apologizing, but now that they weren’t speaking, the air was thickening with tension.

  
Surprisingly, Connor was the first to speak again. “Did you get snowed on or something?”

  
Realizing that he was still covered in snow from falling over earlier, he quickly shook his head and let out a half-hearted, weak chuckle. “No, I, uh… I fell into the snow. It’s kinda pathetic.”

  
“Well that sucks.” Connor raised his eyebrows and laughed dryly, but the noise was like music to Michael’s ears. This was genuinely the first time he had the opportunity to hear Connor laugh, and even if it was disingenuous, it was still like a melody ringing out into the frozen air. Michael had to make him laugh more, mainly for his own sake.

  
“Yeah, it really does, but y’know.” Michael sighed and gently kicked around some snow with his foot, trying to think of something else to say. “I think the entire block saw me fall and eat metaphorical shit back there.”

  
Connor cracked a very faint smile, which was barely noticeable unless you looked very closely. He seemed to be amused by Michael’s shame. “Sucks to be you. Try not to fall next time.”

  
“I wasn’t trying to! I was just—“ Michael paused and sighed, knowing that he’d have to admit that he was in a hurry to return to the back of the school. Swallowing his pride, he finished his thought. “—I was running, and then I tripped and fell.”

  
“Glad to know you were so happy to see me again that you decided to run,” Connor commented with a layer of sarcasm. He pursed his lips and looked behind Michael, seeing if anyone was there. He then locked eyes with the boy. “It’d suck if you got sick from the weather. Go back home, get some rest, and warm up so you don’t catch a cold. Class is about to start.”

  
“I didn’t know you actually cared about my health, or anyone’s, for that matter. Is everything alright, Murphy?” Michael asked with a light chuckle, but Connor looked dead serious. Neither of them broke eye contact.

  
Out of nowhere, there was a [buzz](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13519122). Connor fished his phone out of his pocket and examined the screen before looking back up at Michael soon thereafter. “It’s a call; I have to take this. Just go, okay? Many people are getting sick.”

  
“Right. Okay. I didn’t even bring my backpack, so I guess that’s my only option, anyway,” Michael said slowly, clearly puzzled. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

  
The thin boy waved goodbye with one hand while pressing a button on his phone and raising it to his ear with the other. It was clear that their conversation had ended.

  
Michael turned around and strolled away, finding it more suitable to just walk back home instead of running. The journey back to his house wasn’t eventful, but it also wasn’t boring; the hooded boy was left to mull over his interaction with Connor. The two boys seemed to be on better terms this time around, but a couple of things became prevalent. For one, Connor’s laugh was a blessing only few could deserve, and for two, they seemed to be friends again; that’s what Michael hoped for, at least. It’d really suck if Connor was still bitter about what had happened.

  
By the time Michael was back home, it would’ve been around halfway through his first class period. This was mainly because he chose to walk home without rushing to get back, and once he had entered the house and shut the door behind him, he let out a long sigh. He’d just need to think of a quick excuse to bypass whatever questions were thrown at him by teachers or students. The most effective excuse was of course illness, so once he decided that a sickness would be what he’d pin his absence on, he trudged upstairs to his room and threw himself onto the bed.

  
His lack of healthy, alive parents really did help in times like these.

  
Once he situated himself under the covers, the boy scrolled through his phone idly, looking at whatever popped up. Of course, the first thing that appeared was something about Chloe Valentine, the most popular girl in school, so he simply sighed and turned off his phone again, clearly disinterested in whatever it was. He didn’t need to know about some random scandal at his school; he’d much rather watch TV in bed while the snow fell outside.

  
All was calm and peaceful in that moment. Michael was grateful for the opportunity to relax into his bed while watching Hell’s Kitchen, and he quickly found himself mentally cheering on his favorite chefs.

  
It was a nice morning, then a nice evening. The day ended on a good note for Michael. Everything would be alright.

  
He rested well, a light smile remaining on his face through his slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RGVhZC4g


End file.
